


Happenstance

by thepottermalfoyproblem



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Closeted Dean, Happy Dean, M/M, POV Dean Winchester, Secret Relationship, Shmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-13 02:07:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1208812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepottermalfoyproblem/pseuds/thepottermalfoyproblem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which, what John Winchester doesn't know won't kill him and Dean Winchester is happy for the first time in a long time. Dean/OC shmoop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happenstance

**Author's Note:**

> I found this while going through my writing folder. Forgot I had written it at all. So, have some happy Dean for a change. This is also to make up for the Hobbit angst from yesterday...
> 
> WARNING: Features an at least Bisexual Dean. If you don't like it... Why did you click it in the first place?
> 
> I own nothing. Just borrowing characters for my own amusement.

It’s late when we roll into the hotel parking lot. Sammy’s passed out in the back seat and dad is, well, close to passing out himself. Or pissing on himself. I don’t even know anymore. I just want to get them both put to bed before anything goes wrong.

Dad’s too drunk to care that I’m driving, but I’m extra careful anyway. Not a scratch on Baby. You treat her right and she’ll take you far. I pull into a parking space near the front office and make careful not to slam the door on my way out of the car. 

A small bell tied to the door chimes as I push through and a guy looks up from the front desk. Young, like me, kinda thin with dark hair, dark eyes. Crap. He’s cute. He smirks at me as I approach. Must have seen me looking. Shit. Was I that obvious? 

I can’t help it. I smile back. Cute desk boy 1. Dean 0. This is not going well. 

To compensate I lean against the counter and speak as calmly as I can. “I need one room for the night. Two kings. Got any?” Nailed it. 

“Mmmmm, yep, ground floor. Room 105.” He pops the “p” on his yep and smirks wider as I jump a little. I must be more tired than I thought if my mask is slipping this much. Groaning internally, I hand him my card.

“Enjoy your stay, Mr. Ricard. Let me know if you need anything.” He winks at me, fucking winks at me, as he hands me the keys to the room and the receipt. I beat a hasty retreat back to the car and help Dad and Sammy, both passed out now, into the room and into bed. 

As I empty my pockets before going to bed myself I find the receipt again. On the back, in black sharpie, is a number. I glance over at Dad and Sammy. They aren’t going anywhere tonight. I glance back at the receipt. It’s been forever since I had a chance like this. Fuck it. I’m doing it.

I slip back out the door and lean against the wall. Dialing the number into my phone I wait two rings before someone picks up. It feels like an eternity.

“Jamie Harten, who’s this.”

“It’s Dean from 105. Listen, did you mean it when you said ‘anything’?”

We end up staying at the motel for a week. Every night I sneak out to Jamie’s place and have the best sex of my 18 years followed by laughter and coffee. There may have been tears when I had to move on. Not that I’ll admit to it.

I keep his number in my wallet and call him from time to time if I’m feeling low. He does the same. By some miracle Dad doesn’t find out and, for the first time in a long time, I am unexplainably happy.

**Author's Note:**

> Review please!


End file.
